Chapter 20 – David #2
I had never been so nervous before racing like I had been before practice one, but it had gone well.
I decided to pace myself, there was no point pushing myself, and causing myself more harm, and I kept that mentality through the second and third practices.
Daniel managed to ice my legs between practices and quali, and we used some of the ibuprofen gel.
And it had been enough, because I had qualified in pole.
I couldn’t really believe it. At the beginning of the week there had been doubt that I would race, and now here I was at the front of the pack on race day.
Lars’s car still wasn’t right, and they had to change another engine component overnight, which had resulted in him getting a grid penalty again.
So, he was in the middle of the pack, tenth.
If the car behaved, then he had a chance to move up the pack, but there were some talented drivers in front of him, whose cars were good.
They might not be as good as mine, but they were still good. Lars has a tough race ahead of him.
“Good luck out there today,” Lars’s voice sounds next to me.
“Thanks.”
“And for God’s sake, win the title for the team. Vincent needs a boost. He’s been a complete pain in the arse.”
“Isn’t that normally something you like?” I joke. Lars really needs a pick-me-up, and when his eyes widen as he looks over to me, laughter falls from his mouth.
“Well, yes, but he’s been too preoccupied for that,” Lars whispers.
“Oh, I understand that.” And almost kicked myself. The words fell from my mouth unaided.
“Wait, does that mean your man’s been here? Oh, come on. You have to tell me who it is? It will brighten my day, hell, it will brighten my weekend.”
“He’s been close,” I admit. “But I really cannot tell you. Sorry.”
Lars looks around the garage before looking back to me, and looking around again, “Lars, what are you doing?”
“Looking for someone that’s not normally here, and who might be staring at you.”
“Lars, I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but he isn’t here.” Which wasn’t a lie, Richard hadn’t come into the garage yet, and I wasn’t sure if he would. I think he was with Otis somewhere.
“I will find out who it is,” Lars replies.
“No, you won’t, but I will tell you, and soon.”
“I cannot believe how mean you’re being. You’re really kicking a man when he’s down,” Lars tries.
“You are down. You have issues with the car, both of us know that you’re going to love racing out there today, and all the overtaking you are going to get.”
“Yes, that is true,” Lars grins.
“Let’s go and race then.” Giving him a slap on the back and heading over to my team.
“David, are you ready for this?” My engineer asks, as I get to my car.
I had gotten into my driving suit earlier, leaving the arms hanging around my waist. Pulling it up, I slide my arms into the sleeves and fasten up the zipper.
The engineer hands me my neck brace, which I secure in place on my shoulders.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I confirm.
Stepping up to the car, I stand in the cockpit, before crouching down to rest my hands on the side of the cockpit, to take my weight, and I slide my feet forward, resting them on the pedals.
I shift in the seat until I’m comfortable, and then secure myself into the cockpit with the headrest. My helmet is handed to me, and I slip it over my head, securing the strap.
Once I’m in, with my helmet on, the neck brace is attached to the headrest. The headrest is designed to help minimise impact on the head and neck, in the event of a crash, and I can vouch for its effectiveness, especially when crashing into walls.
A monitor is placed to the front of me, and I scan all the data. It’s showing me my current laps time, as well as sector splits. So, I can see which sections of the track where I’m faster. These split times tell me where I can make up time, if needed. This will all be useful knowledge to me.
Finally, the screen is pulled away, the tyre covers are all pulled off, and one of the engineers is standing in front of me, pulling me forward, and I edge the car out of the garage.
All the cars go around the circuit before we pull up on the starting grid.
All I have is clear air in front of me, and my mind is going over what I need to do.
Then, I’m watching the starting lights, they are mounted above the start and finish line.
There are five in total, and each one will light in turn.
One, pause, two, pause, three, pause, four.
I take a breath as the fifth light illuminates, and then all five lights vanish, it’s race time, and I push the car forward.
Turn one is a sharp turn to the left, before swinging around to the right, as we head down the straight. I get off the line cleanly, but I can see the car in second position close by. I keep control of my nerves. My car is quicker, I just need to make sure that they don’t get past me.
That’s all I’m thinking about as I keep pushing the car forward.
I listen to the engineers for when it’s the best time to pit.
Vegas is a long race track, and only has sixty laps, so most teams will only do one pit stop.
The teams doing two will want their drivers to be aggressive, and make up time.
Those will be the drivers at the back of the group who will want to get some points.
With each passing lap, my confidence grows, my legs feel okay, there might be an odd twinge, but Daniel warned me that was a possibility. It really was a dream race for me. I couldn’t believe my luck.
“Lars is out.” My engineer’s voice coming through my headset, looking at the board as I head down the home straight, I see we have ten laps to go. That’s when it dawns on me. Lars won’t get any points. Unless something drastic happens, I will win. I will be world champion.
“Keep going, David,” Vincent’s voice sounds, and then I’m almost certain I hear, “Win, baby,” in Richard’s voice, but it was so faint in the background, and Vincent didn’t seem to react to it, maybe I’m hearing things.
Richard wouldn’t risk coming over the airwaves, and his voice being recognised. But I still hold onto those words.
The lap numbers keep dropping, and then I’m finally on the final lap.
This is it. My concentration lapses, and I go wide on the first turn, coming off the track.
Shit. I’m able to get back on the track quickly, but now the car behind me is closer.
I have to finish in pole to win, otherwise, I’m going to have to wait for Qatar.
It’s time to hold my nerve, and dig deep.
DRS is only enabled at a few places on the track, it’s where I can open the rear wing on the car, reducing the drag of the car, and allow for air to pass through the wing.
This can give me as much as eleven seconds, and I’m going to make the most of every second, to put some extra distance between me and the car behind me.
I want to be annoyed at myself, but I enjoyed having that competition.
Finally, I’m going around the final bend, and there it is, the chequered flag waving. I cross the finish line in first place. I know what it means. I have done it. I’m finally world champion, and I can’t stop them. The tears start streaming down my face.
“What a drive. Congratulations David. World Champion.” Vincent sounds over my headset.
“Thank you,” I get out through sobs. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”
I do a victory lap off the circuit, and wave at all the fans. I can see the odd union jack flying. My heart feels like it’s going to burst with happiness. As the years have passed, my hope of ever getting the title got smaller and smaller. But here I am.
I pull into the winner’s circle, and park in front of the board with the one.
I unhook myself from the headrest, push it free from the cockpit, and climb out.
I stand on the front of the car, point a number one finger into the air in triumph.
Then disregarding my legs, I jump off the front of the car, run over to the team, and jump into them.
I can hear them all screaming, and patting me on my back.
Then I hear “Love you,” close to my ear.
No one else would have heard it, and when I look over, I see Richard smiling at me, his eyes alight with pride.